


Burning Hotter Than the Sun

by watercolouredreams, xofunghoul



Category: 6 Underground (2019), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013)
Genre: 6 Underground x G.I. Joe, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Four is a himbo, He became rogue, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mouse didn't die, One recruited Mouse, Or not, PWP, Smut, smut but with plot, snipers are sexy, they are together in any universe, try and fight us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22944286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watercolouredreams/pseuds/watercolouredreams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xofunghoul/pseuds/xofunghoul
Summary: The Ghosts recruited an unnumbered member into the team and he catches the attention of the traceur he's assigned to work closely with in the team.ORthe Mouse x Four (G.I. Joe x 6 Underground) crossover everyone (or no one) is asking for!
Relationships: Ben Hardy/Joe Mazzello, Four/Mouse
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69
Collections: Hardzzello Week 2019





	Burning Hotter Than the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Finally it's here!
> 
> If you haven't seen GI Joe, #1, you don't have to for this and #2, don't. Mouse's background story is based off on the movie character but kinda not really (because, spoiler, he died in it). We also based his personality a little on Sledge and of course, our own ideas. And the dynamic between the two is not quite like Ben and Joe's, but visually they're the same people, so have that in mind. Confused yet? Don't be! This is a work of pure imagination and fiction. Enjoy!

**_Burning brighter and hotter than the sun_ **

**_(Mouse x Four crossover AU, 6U x GI Joe)_ **

“Okay, Two is in position. Four, how are you doing up there?” 

It’s not that he couldn’t hear Mouse over the coms. It’s just that he’s busy thinking. The front of the penthouse, which is where he’s supposed to enter as per their plan, is just so fucking open and _fuck_ , his gut feeling is telling him the moment he sets his foot there, people will start to show up. Guns will be fired. Things will explode. Nope, this is not working out for him.

“This is the fourth time you asked me the same question, Mouse. Calm down, will you?”

“I’ll calm down if I’m not the fucking operator of this fucking mission, Four.”

“You sound so sexy when you’re mad.”

“Fuck you.”

“Just tell me when," Four says sweetly over the coms and Mouse was about to come back with another expletive when Two speaks.

“For fuck’s sake get a room.” She sounds like she’s about ready to throw her earpiece down from the 75th floor.

“He started it,” Four whines.

“And you don’t know when to stop.” It's Mouse. 

“After you.”

Two groans loudly and Four thinks he could clearly see Mouse tensing up, maybe even popping a vein trying to resist saying something to that. It’s like his default setting is pissy. And it’s so sexy, _not even kidding_.

“Okay, so, I’m thinking.”

“You’re _thinking_ ? He’s _thinking_! Who would’ve thought?”

“Listen to Two and shut up, will you?” He’s not waiting for Mouse’s approval. He’s sure of this. He has to move to the opposite direction instead so he could enter from the back. It’s a more complicated route but there’s a glass window to the en suite bathroom and it seems safer to go in that way. Yes, okay, going through the glass isn’t ideal but it’s nothing compared to being ambushed at the front of the balcony where he was supposed to go in through and alert a bunch of pigs. 

“Four, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“I have an in around back.”

“But I don’t have eyes on you around back!”

Mouse is right. He didn’t think of that. But it’s too late to turn back now. 

“You’re gonna have to trust me on this one.”

“Trust you--you little piece of shit!” Mouse is alarmed. Sure, Four has never been easy to deal with, but this is something serious. “I can’t have your back if I can’t see you! Four!”

“I’m doing this.” and before Mouse can protest again, Four turns off the coms and gets to work. 

He climbs up through the building just across the one he’s supposed to get into and finds some sourface at the ledge of a window so he has a clear jump to the bathroom window. When he hears gunshots and commotion coming from downstairs, he knows that Two put the plan in motion and in fact he can see some movement inside the penthouse from where he is so that’s his cue. He waits for a minute or so thinking that’s all the time whatever security there is in the room need to check or help what’s going on outside and then he finally makes the jump, covering his head. 

He lands perfectly on the floor in the middle of the bathroom. He’s sure he’s got a cut or two-- _or more_ , here and there and he’s also sure Mouse is going to be very pissed and he’s looking forward to that. He even smiles to himself for good measure. But he feels fine, nothing major obviously so while the adrenaline is going through him, he’ll power through.

Four takes out his gun, takes a deep breath and makes his way outside the bathroom and into the room where he finds the target. The mission is an extraction. He has to rescue someone. A Middle Eastern young woman that looks terrified. He puts his gun away and shows her his hands. 

“Do you speak any English?” He asks, the woman doesn’t answer. “Look--I’m here to rescue you.” He says slowly, hands to his chest and the woman finally nods at him but suddenly looks up. The door of the room that was slightly ajar flung open and one of the goons that was looking after her burst into the room. “Fuck!” 

He’s going to be beaten to a pulp, he can feel it. The man, who’s taller and broader than him, takes a swing at him and he deflects, but it's not going to prevent him from being eventually hit for long. After two or three missed punches, he hits him this time, right on his ribs and he grunts, double himself in pain and the wind is knocked out of him completely. The man is double his size and strong, he doesn’t stand a chance against him by himself, he needs to make a run for it but the problem is that he needs to take the target along with him too. So all he can do now is just cover his head and try to tire the man out. He receives all the hits and punches in his stomach and ribs which is not ideal but then suddenly, a crash. 

He looks at his feet and there’s pieces of ceramic everywhere and then there’s a hard thud and the man hits the floor. When he looks up, the woman is standing over them in shock with some pieces of ceramic from some sort of vase still on her hands. She helps him stand up and as he does, he spits some blood onto the floor. With her help, he leads them back to the bathroom. 

“We have to jump through there.” He points at the broken window where he went in and the woman looks at him in panic. “I know how it looks like but you’ll have to trust me. This is our safest way out.” She nods because it’s true, they either die on their way down or they get killed by more goons coming to get them but at least on their way down, they have a chance. One in a hundred with how banged up he is but he’s escaped situations like this before so he hopes this is no different and he’s still the same lucky bastard. 

And apparently, he is. The woman clings to his neck on his back and he jumps with difficulty to the building in front of them. It’s not a particular difficult jump and in a different situation it would be a piece of cake, but he has someone clinging to his neck and he possibly has some sort of internal bleeding so yes, it’s not ideal but he makes it anyway somehow. Probably some higher power wants him to rub this in Mouse face, well maybe this _among other things_. 

“Two.” He turns the coms back on. “Target is secure. You can leave now.” 

“You stupid goddamned idiot!”

“Hey, I said target is secure.”

“Fucking piece of shit!”

“You already said that before. Be creative.”

“Come on, lovebirds,” Two said, cutting Mouse off before he could use more expletives. “I’m trying to light up the place, here, okay?”

Mouse cursed under his breath. “Okay, clear,” he says in a clipped tone.

Over the coms, they can hear a few clicks, before Two’s voice comes on, and in her lilting voice says, “Goodbye boys _._ ” 

Immediately after, the metropolitan night sky lights up with exploding orange and showers in debris of glass and steel. And she confirmed that she was in fact, cleared. 

*****

Mouse looks like he’s about to murder someone, or specifically Four, when they gets the keys to their motel room.

“Both of you,” Two shrugs, holding out the key to the room in their general direction. “Keep it down and try not to kill each other, alright?”

Mouse takes the key wordlessly. Four clears his throat. “Well, we can always switch--”

“First, why would I trust you with her? Second, she speaks French. She’d be more at ease to talk to me and there are a few things we need to find out from her.”

Four throws his hand in the air, the one that isn’t dislocated at the shoulder anyway. “And nobody cared to mention this to me when I was struggling to explain things to her?”

“You can speak French?”

“I can count from one to ten.”

Two rolls her eyes, groaning. “I change my mind. I wouldn’t say a word to One if you end up killing this idiot after all,” she tells Mouse.

The way Mouse is still silent is making Four uncomfortable. _Come on, say something,_ he thinks, glancing at the redhead. He looks even paler than usual under the glaring fluorescent light. _This is the part where you insult and curse at me._

Instead, he just turns on his heel and walks towards the direction of the room.

Two says something softly in French to the young lady. She nods and they make their way to theirs.

When Four turns to look at Mouse’s direction, the redhead is already unlocking the door to their shared room. _Shit, what if he locks me out?_ He would have sprinted to where Mouse is right now, if his entire body wasn’t hurting so bad. He knows he has a dislocated shoulder, and possibly a fucked out rib too. Walking is painful. Fuck, even breathing is. He can’t possibly run, so he hopes Mouse isn’t that pissed with him that he would lock the door behind him. Limping his way to the doorway, he’s relieved when the doorknob turns in his grip.

“So you didn’t lock me out after all,” he wants to put in a bit of a cheeky laughter at the end there, but it came out as a snort instead, and it sounds a little nervous if not completely idiotic.

Mouse, however, is still silent and ignoring him and it’s unnerving him for real now.

“Hey, look, we got the target, didn’t we?”

Silence. Four comes closer and they’re standing within an arm’s reach from each other. Mouse is staring at him now.

“If you ask me, I thought that went pretty well-- _ow, ouch_ , what the fuck--” he looks down at Mouse’s hand that is currently _twisting_ his arm.

“This went well, you said?” 

“You’re twisting my arm, asshole.”

“I’m just holding it, _asshole_.” He pauses, letting go of Four’s arm, which makes Four wince again. “If I was twisting your arm, you’d be a crying, sobbing mess on the floor begging me to stop.”

“Does that get you off?”

Mouse ignores him. “Which part of following the plan did your stupid brain not understand?”

“I don’t get what’s the big deal, honestly.”

“The mission plan is there to be followed,” Mouse enunciates his words as if speaking to a child. “In case you’re too dumb to understand English.”

“Last time I checked, I don’t take orders from you.” Four spits out his words as he’s starting to get really irritated by Mouse and his bossing around. The pain all over his body is not helping with his patience.

“Last time I checked, my job description is to keep you safe. How the hell do I do that if I can’t see you?” The tone of his voice is slowly rising.

“I’m here, I’m safe even if you didn’t see me back there, alright? Is your job description all cleared now? If that’s all you care about, I’m alive, well done.”

“That’s not the point!” he snarls, getting all worked up. 

“Then what is? My job was to extract the target, and I did it, didn’t I?” Four barks in reply. 

“At what cost? Broken bones? Internal bleeding? Your _fucking life_?” They’re just carelessly shouting at the top of their lungs by now.

“Why does it matter to you? I’m just a fucking number anyway!”

“No, you’re not!" Mouse shouts, much louder than before."That’s not true,” the redhead says with a certain finality that surprises him a little. And then as if for good measure, he adds, “And you’re a fucking selfish bastard, _that’s_ what you are. Now sit the fuck down so I can see what part of you can be fixed.” He reaches to get a grip on Four again but the blonde hits his outstretched hand off and away from him. 

“Fuck off! If I’m such a _stupid selfish bastard_ then leave me the fuck alone.” He has to admit he’s genuinely a bit mad by now.

But apparently so is Mouse. In two swift movements to his upper abdomen and legs, before he can even say _oof_ , he’s down on the floor, the wind knocked out of him while Mouse is pinning him down flat with his right leg locking his left, and both his arms around his neck and shoulder, keeping him still. “I said fuck off!” He struggles to get away from Mouse’s grip but he can’t even move an inch.

“Don’t struggle, asshole. Your shoulder is fucked and maybe that rib is cracked or broken,” Mouse says, and Four realizes that the dislocated arm and the possibly broken rib are both not pinned down by the redhead’s weight. “You’ll make them worse.”

Four lies still, realizing he has no choice anyway. He’s basically just a kid who likes freerunning and jumping building, with zero combat training, and Mouse is a fucking elite military-sniper-man whatever. He bet Mouse could kill him with a butter knife or something like that, like how he always sees it in the movies.

"That was _too easy_." Mouse scoffs, realizing that Four has given up any attempt at struggling.

"You know, if you wanted to pin me down like this so badly, you could have just told me." He may have given up physical fight, but he’s got to let his mouth live up to its reputation.

Mouse presses down harder and locks his limbs tighter. Four winces and gasps for air. Their faces are merely inches away from each other. "You might want to know I have killed men like this before."

"Yeah? What else have you done to them _like this_ before?" Four's voice is choked and raspy, struggling to keep his breathing regular.

"You have a smart ass mouth, don't you?" 

"You--secretly like it--don't you?" He mutters brokenly between gasps.

"No. Shut the fuck up." Four could literally feel Mouse’s breath on his face. It’s hot and heats his skin up from the outside while his inside is burning with something more primal. His shoulder and rib are beginning to actually _fucking_ hurt, but that’s nothing compared to the way he’s completely pressed down, lungs almost squeezed out of air, unable to move under the redhead’s weight. He feels a little light-headed, while his insides keeps burning and the next time he squirms underneath him, he realizes it’s friction that he’s looking for instead of release. 

So he keeps staring at Mouse’s mouth, the way his lips part a little as he sneers and lets out a pant as he presses down with his weight even more and Four bucks upwards, meeting his hips with his own, crashing his growing hardness against Mouse’s thigh. He thinks he wants to take those lips between his teeth and bites down on them, eat that sneer with his own shit-eating grin. Biting his own bottom lip, he moans out, " _Make me_ ." Or perhaps he had said _fuck me_ instead, he couldn’t tell. All he could think of is how much he wants Mouse to just ruin him here on this motel room floor.

Whatever he said must have surprised Mouse a little nonetheless, because he could feel his grip on him relax a little. So he uses it to his advantage and lifts his head up looking for Mouse’s lips but he backs away just enough to look at him and pins him back down, now with a hand around his throat. Four grins, which clearly infuriates Mouse, and did he say how fucking sexy the redhead is when he’s pissed? He wants that angry mouth on his own, and maybe Mouse wants it too, because when he moves his fingers to grip Four’s neck at the base of his jaw, his fingers don’t stop there. Instead they travel, pressing the skin along the jawline until the index finger touches the corner of Four’s lips and he takes it into his mouth, along with the middle finger, and he could hear Mouse’s gasp as he sucks and swirls his tongue around them once. 

Mouse keeps staring, eyes transfixed on Four’s mouth even as he takes his fingers out, pulling slowly so they leave wet and with a resounding pop. Then he quickly replaces them with his own mouth. _Finally_ , Four thinks as he kisses him open mouthed and hungrily with teeth and tongue, even as he writhes under the redhead, rubbing himself harder and rather shamelessly against his thigh, wanting, no, fucking needing whatever friction he could get.

He didn’t even realize it when Mouse moves one hand to grip his shoulder and another to grip his arm, and using one leg, the one that Four isn’t rubbing against like a bitch in heat, putting his knee under his armpit before he pushes and snaps Four’s upper arm back into its socket. The blonde screams in pain, but it was cut short by Mouse’s mouth on his, and quickly replaced by moans as he reaches down with one hand and squeezes Four’s hardness in his fist. He groans and grunts into the kiss and bites the redhead’s bottom lip hard when he grips him harder. So he takes away his hand to the blond’s locks instead and gives it a sharp tug so he lets go. He can taste metal in his mouth and Four is grinning again.

“Come on,” he breathes out, “fuck me hard so I can’t feel anything else but you inside me.” 

Mouse grunts and spits out saliva mixed with blood before pressing Four down with both hands again and kissing him bruisingly hard against the cheap threadbare carpeting of the floor, biting and leaving teeth marks everywhere down his neck and shoulder, as if they don’t have tomorrow to worry about when they have to return to their makeshift base with Two and the rescued target. Not that their minds are capable of thinking about anything else other than fucking at the moment.

Mouse lifts himself up and stands up, helping Four to do the same even as they fumble with belts and buttons and zippers, hurriedly and unceremoniously getting rid of items of clothing that fall to the floor unnoticed. While Mouse takes his military pants and underwear off, Four does the same, but faster, and climbs onto one of the two beds before turning around to sit open legged with his hardness jutting out, his back against the bed frame. 

“Come ‘ere, come on.” Four says as his eyes stares unflinchingly at the sight of the redhead crossing the bed towards him as he reaches out to get a hold of his hips. “Oh fuck, so the curtains match the drapes huh?” The blond licks his lips at the sight that Mouse’s hard cock makes in front of him. He gives it a few quick pumps before taking him into his mouth, smiling when he hears Mouse let out a deep groan above him. As soon as he adjusts himself to the length and thickness of his cock in his mouth, wetting it with his tongue, he closes his mouth in on it, and the redhead’s groans grow louder as he grabs his blonde hair tightly with both hands and thrusts in and out with just about enough force to make Four feel like his face is being hit by a slab of soft wet flesh, lean muscles underneath, repeatedly, even as he moans and hums deep in his throat. It doesn’t take long for Mouse to give himself a final thrust, mashing Four’s face between his torso and the cushioned headboard as he releases his load into his mouth, his eyes transfixed on the blonde as he watches him takes it all in and sucks him off as he comes steadily, groaning and muttering curses like a litany. 

“Your smart ass mouth has some good use after all,” he says as he recovers his breathing.

“Yeah?” Four asks grinning after he takes his still semi-hard cock out of his mouth with an obscene pop, a small trail of saliva connecting his lips to it. “You wanna see how fast I can make you hard again?” He asks with a raspy voice, smirking and staring at Mouse’s dick. 

“Shut up and get up on your knees,” he commands and Four does as he’s told, the firm tone going straight to his cock making it twitch hard against his stomach. His cock is painfully erect, has been for a long while now, the tip leaking precum that is dribbling down its length.

Mouse turns Four around and a little sideways, and pushes him down the side of the bed roughly, chest against the edge of the bed and spreads his legs with his knees so he can reach his ass with one hand, rubbing his finger on his puckered hole. He presses his own chest along Four’s side, one hand tipping his head sideways to kiss him, his tongue pushing into Four’s mouth forcefully, making him moan into the kiss desperately and hiss because all this movement is making his ribs hurt but he couldn’t care less right now. 

“Come on, Mouse, fuck me. _Please._ ” He pleads as he pushes his ass backward against Mouse’s hand. Mouse quickly moves his hand away to slip two fingers into Four’s mouth instead and the blonde coats them in as much saliva as he could, while his other hand begins pumping himself into full hardness again. He pushes one finger inside Four as soon as they leave his mouth, and almost immediately right after, he pushes one more in, which makes the blond arches his back and throws his head back and upwards, eyes closed, mouth opened and eyebrows knit together as he lets out moans and pants against Mouse’s ministrations. He works silently and swiftly, just like a fucking sniper, Four thinks even as the thought leaves him as quickly as he lets out another moan from deep in his throat, his hard cock swinging from side to side and leaving trails of precum between his spread thighs.

“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Mouse whispers hotly in his ears. 

“So bad,” he mutters between moans. He barely realizes it when the redhead repositions himself behind him, plastering his chest on his back. “ _So fucking bad_ , I want you to fuck my brains out.” 

And with that, Four whines at the loss of the fingers inside him but they’re quickly replaced by the feeling of something bigger than two fingers pushing in, slowly at first, stretching him open even more than the fingers previously. Both grunting in unison, Four’s head slams forward, cheek onto the mattress, gripping the duvet harder, mouth hanging open, his face and neck blushed dark pink, as he moans silently from the growing feeling of being filled in his ass.

“Fuck, you are _so good._ ” Mouse moans out once he bottoms out, pausing before he starts thrusting, creating a slow and steady pace since he’s taking him raw like this. 

“Harder, Mouse, faster. Come on.” Four says between gasps and half-breaths, words muffled by the mattress on which his head is pressed against. Mouse comes down on his back as quickly, slipping his arms under Four’s own to grip his face with one hand and shoves his middle and pointer fingers into Four’s mouth as he slams hard into Four and the blonde gags a little from the fingers touching the back of his throat, but he adjusts himself quickly. Mouse grips the edge of the mattress with one hand as he pushes in with shorter thrusts at much faster pace, and Four wastes no time in licking and sucking the redhead’s fingers like a lollipop even as his grunts and moans grow more frantic and he feels his brain starting to turn to mush.

But as suddenly as Mouse picks up speed, he pulls his fingers out from Four’s mouth and brings himself upright again on his knees, bottoming out and pushing Four’s upper body almost flat against the mattress before pausing, causing Four to mutter a curse. He grips Four’s arms hard, pulling the blonde towards him as he grunts, relishing the feeling of being inside his tight hole--before he pulls out.

Before Four could whine and protest, he finds himself grabbed and yanked backwards, his back pressed flush against Mouse’s pale, flat chest as he leans close to the blonde’s ears. “I’m gonna sit down at the edge of the bed and I want you to sit on my lap, ride me and fuck yourself with my cock while I make you cum.” 

Four could swear that he almost came from being told that alone. “Fuck,” He nods and breaths out a “yes,” as they move into position, Mouse sitting back a little as Four backs up against the bed and lifts his legs one at a time, spreading them wide and straddling the redhead as Mouse grabs and pushes his ass cheeks apart, giving him better access. Four arches his back as he sits himself down on Mouse’s erect cock, hissing and groaning loudly even as Mouse curses under his breath. He then reaches in front of him to grip the edge of the mattress in a tight hold, balancing himself as he starts pulling himself up and pushing down, picking up his pace as he lets out a mix of curses, pants, moans and hissing breaths all at the same time. Mouse brings one of his hands up his torso to his neck so he can tilt his head to the side and kiss him clumsily and hard even as his hand travels downward to take a hold of Four’s cock and pumps it in time with his thrusts. Both of them moan into each other’s mouths, eyes shut tight as Four bounces up and down on Mouse’s cock. 

“Fuck, Mouse, make me cum, please I wanna cum.” 

_“Fuck, fuck.”_

Four begging him to make him cum is the exact thing that he needs to tip him over and off the edge. He trails kisses down his neck and back and sinks his teeth open mouthed on the skin as he thrusts hard and deep one last time with a loud grunt and cums in waves muttering a string of _fucks_ , pulling the blonde close. He aims for a few tight and precise strokes of his hand with his thumb rubbing the tip of Four’s cock that makes the blonde screams out a curse while shooting his load on the carpeted floor, dribbling on the mattress and all over Mouse’s hand. He swiftly pulls the blonde’s hips and steadies his rapidly willowing body down on him, his forehead and side of his face pressed to Four’s back.

They both collapse sideways on the bed, Mouse with his hands still around Four as their hard, erratic panting slows down into shorter, shallow breaths and turn into longer ones as they come down from their highs, Four whimpering into the mattress as Mouse pulls out. Everything around them and around the room is a mess of the aftermath of sex. Mouse rolls on his back, instinctively looking for something to wipe himself with, and finding nothing, gives up as he lies his head back on the mattress, taking a big, deep breath. Exhaling, he turns to look at Four, also lying down on his back now, chest heaving, eyes closed. He looks like he’s about to fall asleep, so that makes Mouse sit up almost immediately.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet.”

“Don’t tell me you’re the cuddling type--” he lets out in a raspy voice but smiles a little with his eyes still closed. 

“I have to patch you up, dumbass. How’s your side?”

Four opens his eyes and blinks, his face showing that he’s gauging the level of pain, “I don’t know,” he says, a little confused. “I guess you really fucked my brains out or something,” he continues, chuckling a little.

“No, idiot, your ribs are fine, if you could ride me like that,” Mouse points out. “Other than your shoulder, which I already fixed, what you have are mostly superficial cuts and bruises. You had sex and your oxytocin surges, releasing endorphin, and it numbs the pain for now,” he retorts.

“Okay, _smart ass_ ,” he says loudly, and then, “how about taking a fucking compliment with a thanks?” he mumbles, sitting up a little.

“But it will wear out soon,” Mouse continues, unfazed. “We better take care of those,” he gestures vaguely at Four, “right now before you start feeling the pain again everywhere and whine about it.” He gets up and walks over to the bathroom, while Four finally sits up properly, surveying the mess around him. He could hear the sound of water running from the tap in the bathroom, and later, water draining out from the sink. He spots streaks of something dark and looks like dried blood on one side of the mattress where his face was shoved pretty hard on its surface when Mouse was fucking. His hand automatically goes up to his face, running tentative fingers all over. Mouse returns with some first aid kit stuff; a clean cloth, gauze, bandage rolls and band-aids, and something in a dark bottle that Four knows would sting. 

Mouse is looking at him touching his face gingerly. “You got some cuts mostly on the left side of your face, the cheekbone, eyebrow, forehead. Your eye is gonna look pretty bruised soon.”

“Fucking bastard. That’s the better side of my face.”

“You have a better side? Hardly noticed it.” Mouse says nonchalantly as he glances down at him for less than a second before he looks away again and continues checking his cuts. 

“Hey, that hurts.”

“Hardly noticed that too.” He sets to work quietly and efficiently, as he always does. After Five, Mouse would be the person with the medical-related training and experience on the team now. They’re sitting on the edge of the bed, mirroring each other; one leg crossed, one on the floor. Four is leaning forward so that he’s closer to Mouse, who is dabbing gauze on his face, first cleaning the wound and then applying antibiotic ointment on them deftly. They’re both naked still, but none actually cares. Four has his eyes on Mouse now, watching him intently as he’s focused on the task at hand. If he realizes how intense Four’s gaze is on him right now, he gives no indication of it; he goes on with each repeated movement of wiping and dabbing at Four’s numerous cuts with such precise and mechanical movements that Four just itches to break the metronomic rhythm.

“Did you know that your eyes are pure hazel?” he asks in a soft voice, partly honest, partly curious to see how Mouse would respond.

The redhead doesn’t beat an eyelash or pause. “Yes,” he answers nonchalantly, “about 5% of the world population has hazel eyes like I do,” he continues, “but less than 2% has green eyes like yours.” His eyes darts to Four’s again for a split second, and the blonde smiles.

But his smile is broken rather quickly when Mouse presses hard on a wound, and he hisses and jerks his arm out of surprise. “Fuck,” he almost spits the word. “Was that even necessary?” he asks, frowning. The redhead stops and stares at him squarely. 

“Sit still.” It wasn’t loud, but there’s something in the tone of his voice that makes Four _want_ to sit still. “And shut up.” He’s about to open his mouth to say something, but Mouse is still staring at him, so he doesn’t.

The redhead keeps his eyes on him for a few more seconds before putting his palm under his right elbow and gently nudging it up to the level of his shoulder so that he could inspect the wounds there. Four is quiet now but keeps looking at him, the redhead sniper who has the sharpest words but the warmest touch. He’s not the most poetic or sentimental person but when Mouse touches him he thinks he could feel it _under_ his skin. He doesn’t know what it is. It calms him down. Or maybe Mouse was right. It’s just some chemical reactions and hormones. He literally just got out of a fight with a big burly man and got beaten up good. And then he had sex. With Mouse. He feels a smirk creeping up his face when he thinks about it.

He has been hitting on the redhead for as long as he could remember, since he joined the Ghosts. He remembers clearly the day One introduced him to everyone in the team and he managed to get into an argument with One in record time. It was something about his name and his refusal to be called by a number, and as One throws one of his unoriginal punchlines and stolen quotes, Mouse looks at him straight in the eyes and said, “I’m Mouse. End of discussion,” before walking out of the room. Seven had to calm One down and everyone went back to doing whatever they were doing as part of the preparation for the mission at the time. Seven had called him though, and told him to be nice to Mouse. He has no objection to that. He has keen eyes, and had caught a glimpse of the sniper earlier when he entered the building with Seven. He’s good looking, pale skin, short mahogany-red hair, thin eyebrows, sharp eyes, even sharper nose, with a barely noticeable dent. No traces of freckles. He really must have spent all his time hidden from sight and the sun. He wears an ash-grey scarf around his neck despite the heat, and the rest of him is covered in military-green bomber jacket, form-fitting pants and combat boots. Old habits and preferences die hard, perhaps. Seven had told him, “he’s the best sniper around, used to be a Joe. Now he works alone. We need him for his intel, and to cover you as you scale the roofs.”

“What’s a Joe?”

“Elite covert military unit. Fuckin’ legends. Framed for national treason, wiped clean. But somehow, _he_ survived.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“Don’t worry,” he had told Seven at the time, “I _love_ complicated.”

He feels a yawn coming, his entire body beginning to ache and sleep sounds like the greatest idea he has ever had right now. It’s hard to keep his mind completely alert and eyes open. Mouse is wrapping bandage around him now, keeping the dressing on his side intact. He honestly doesn’t know what kind of injuries he has and how bad it is. But Mouse knows, he’s taking care of them, and that’s enough. If he could just lie down--

“It’s too messy here,” Mouse says, helping him up. “Let’s get you over there,” he gesture with his eyes to the other bed, untouched except for a piece of cloth that was discarded by Mouse lying on top of the covers. He swiftly removes it, and seemingly out of nowhere hands him a piece of wet cloth, “clean yourself up, at least,” and Four doesn’t have any reason to argue so he does, wiping himself more or less clean and Mouse takes the cloth to wipe his backside before helping him get onto the bed and under the covers. He might have mumbled a thanks. Mouse grunts in reply. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light.

When he wakes up much later to a darkened room, he can’t help but wonder what time it is and if it’s already bright outside, since the curtains are drawn completely shut. Despite that, he could see that the room looks a lot like how it was when they entered it; no clothes strewn on the floor, and the other bed made with clean covers on. No blood or other bodily liquid stain anywhere on it. Just Mouse sitting atop the covers, lighting up a cigarette. He’s only wearing his army green khaki pants, zipped but unbuttoned, with the band of his boxer briefs showing a little at the back. The TV across the room is switched on, and it’s playing an old black and white movie on mute.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” His voice is heavy and muffled with sleep.

Mouse glances at him briefly before exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “You’re up.” He’s saying the obvious. “How are you feeling?”

Four turns to lie down on his back. “Like shit,” he says, chuckling a little before wincing. “My side--”

“You did crack your ribs after all,” Mouse says, turning to look at him now. “Three of them.”

“Were you feeling me up when I was asleep?” Four says, grinning.

“Fuck you.” Mouse says with no real venom in his voice. In fact, from where Four is lying down, he thought he could see the redhead smiling a little. Maybe. If he squints hard.

He sits up, holding his breath in an attempt to reduce the pain. “Ah, _fuck_ ,” he says under his breath, exhaling. He needs to pee, otherwise, who cares about getting up while feeling like this. It’s like his entire body was broken open and then put together wrong. Every joint and every moveable part feels overused and sore. And speaking of sore--

As he’s swinging his legs down, planting his soles on the floor, he could see Mouse getting up from the other bed and coming closer to him, extending his arm to help him up. He takes it, and when he stands up they’re standing chest to shoulder, so close, and he grins, because what else is there to do. He wants to open his mouth to say something about it, something that would boil the redhead a little, because he’s so fucking _cold_ all the damn time, but something in his eyes made him stop. Mouse doesn’t say a word as he wraps an arm around Four, helping him walk the short distance to the bathroom. 

“You good?” he asks around the cigarette between his lips as Four steps in, and he nods in reply. The redhead got back to his spot on the bed as Four lifts the lid on the toilet seat.

He doesn’t bother closing the door and when he’s done, he washes himself and his hands, and then finds a clean, unused towel on the rack. Wrapping it around his waist, he steps out to look around the room, realizing now that his clothes are nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, where are--”

“Closet.” Mouse answers without looking away from the TV.

He steps to the wooden closet with its washed-out varnished surface and opens the doors. His clothes are hung neatly alongside Mouse’s tshirt and custom bomber jacket, the one that they later discovered made with graphene, the lightest bulletproof material in theory, that is until Mouse walked off unscathed from a multiple gunshot which everyone was sure hit him right in the middle of his back. One went a little insane when he got to know about his graphene bulletproof jacket, and has been trying to get it made for everyone in the team.

Mouse’s answer was simply, ‘ _not everything can be bought by your money_ ’. Whatever the hell that means. Four doesn’t like to meddle into things he has no concern with. 

He takes his underwear and pants and puts them on. Then he checks the pockets of his pants for his cigarette pack and lighter, but they’re not there. He turns around to look at Mouse, realizing something. He walks over and sits in front of the redhead, deliberately leaning closer towards him to reach over to the nightstand. He picks up the opened pack of cigarettes sitting atop it and takes one out, leaning close to Mouse to touch the ends of their cigarettes together, taking a drag from his to light it up.

He smiles. Mouse has a slight frown on his face.

“Lighten up a little, won’t you? You’re not the one with cracked ribs and bruises and cuts everywhere.”

Mouse shakes his head, taking one last long drag of his cigarette, “You,” he says in a quiet voice, turning sideways to stub the cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand, “are insane.”

“All this time and you just noticed it now?” Four asks, grinning. “I’m hurt.” Mouse doesn’t say anything to that so he adds, “Look, if this is about yesterday--”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Mouse cuts him off, his frown getting deeper and more pronounced on his face.

“Hey, I’m not gonna apologize for doing my job,” Four defends himself. “One is an idiot and his intel was wrong, _again_ , and there was more security than expected. If I had followed the mission plan I would have gotten myself or the target killed. Or both.” 

“That didn’t explain why you had to turn off your coms,” Mouse points out.

“I had to think of something. On the spot.”

“Which you could have told me. Through the coms.”

“For what? To be shouted at again?”

Mouse falls silent. Their gazes are still locked on each other, more intensely than before. 

“We could have regrouped, come up with a new strategy.” His eyes are still on Four’s, but his voice does not have the same kind of patronizing tone it usually has. “Go over the plan, see how many people we were dealing with--”

Four grunts, “There was no time for that.” He looks away, exhaling smoke to his side, away from Mouse’s face.

“Yes, there was. What you did was too risky. What good are you to anyone if you’re dead?” His eyes darts quickly back to the redhead. Maybe he’s just imagining the undertone of concern he could hear in his voice. It’s Mouse, after all. He _must be_ imagining things.

“Well, I technically am dead and doing more good than bad so--”

“But you’re not _really_ dead! Or immortal!” There’s a hint of exasperation in his voice, but Four doesn’t want to hear any of it. “You--”

Before Mouse could finish his sentence, Four leans in, a hand on Mouse’s neck to pull him into a kiss, not just a peck, but a proper kiss, sliding his tongue in and against Mouse’s. They kiss for a while, and he’s surprised that Mouse doesn’t try to stop him, but kisses him back with as much want and need as he does. When they break apart, Mouse still has the same stern look in his eyes, but he’s no longer frowning. “I’m _not_ done talking--” he says in the same clipped tone, but Four scoots a little closer, bringing another hand up to the side of the redhead’s neck. 

“Yeah, _you are_ ,” and brings their lips together to kiss him again. 

He could feel Mouse’s palms on his chest, sliding their way up to hold his face--and then pushing them apart. Four made a sound in his throat to protest, but Mouse isn’t really pushing him away, he’s wedging them apart just enough to speak, his breath hot against Four’s face. “Don’t ever turn your com off on me again, you hear me?” 

They’re so close now that Four could only see the hazel in Mouse’s eyes, his pupils constricting, crowding into black dots. 

“I won’t,” he says against the redhead’s lips, “but only if you’d listen. And don’t scream at me.” His answer almost a whisper, and his eyes not leaving Mouse’s lips out of sight. “Besides,” he says immediately after, with a wicked grin on his face, “I’d rather you make me scream instead.” 

It makes Mouse groan inwardly and roll his eyes, but he draws Four close and pulls him in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Hate it? Hit us up in the comment and tell us if you want more of these two!


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